


Burnt Cookies Taste Better

by t0t4llyaw3s0m3



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Domestic, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, baking cookies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-12
Updated: 2013-04-12
Packaged: 2017-12-08 06:19:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/758081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t0t4llyaw3s0m3/pseuds/t0t4llyaw3s0m3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean finds out that Castiel has never baked cookies...so Dean breaks into a bakery after midnight to show him how.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burnt Cookies Taste Better

Dean supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised when Castiel confessed that he had never baked cookies. After all, the angel barely knew how to work a cell phone, and he hadn’t exactly had a stereotypical childhood, but baking cookies was one of the staples of childhood-full of warm kitchens and spilled sugar and stolen pinches of cookie dough. Dean remembered maybe baking cookies with Mary once or twice as a child, but he had been too young to remember properly and by the time he was old enough to hold on to the memories, Mary was dead and John was forcing a gun into his nine-year-old hands. Besides, Dean couldn’t just let Castiel sit there with that /look/ on his face—head tilted to the side and eyebrows pulled together in confusion. Dean wanted Castiel to have the memories he didn’t, and he didn’t care that he was supposed to be a badass hunter-even the badassiest of hunters are allowed to bake sometimes. Plus, Dean loved chocolate-chip cookies almost as much as he loved pie—and Dean /loved/ pie. 

That was how Dean found himself crouched outside the back door to the bakery, well past midnight, picking the lock and pulling a confused Castiel in after him. They had left Sammy in the motel room watching some soap opera (“It’s the only thing that’s on!” Sam protested, turning slightly red), and if his wide smirk was anything to go by, baking cookies was the last thing he expected them to do. Normally Dean would get defensive and maybe punch him in the arm, but tonight he was in too much of a good mood to ruin it with a stupid fight. Dean just flipped Sam off without looking as he pushed Castiel ahead of him and let the door slam shut. The drive was mostly silent, punctuated only by Dean drumming excitedly on the wheel of the Impala. Castiel just sat in the passenger seat looking confused-as usual. 

“Where are we going, Dean?’ he asked after a few minutes of silence. Dean just laughed. “If I told you, then it wouldn’t be a surprise anymore, would it, Cas?” he grinned across the car. “No, I suppose not,” Cas responded, head tilted to the side again as he considered the question. “Should I be worried?” Dean smiled again, glancing over at Castiel from across the car. “Aw Cas, c’mon! Have I ever given you reason to be worried?” “Yes,” Cas replied, forehead still wrinkled in confusion. “Many times, actually.” “Fair enough,” Dean allowed, before turning his head and refocusing his attention on the road, a small smile still on his face.

“Dean, I’m fairly sure that this is illegal,” Castiel sighed as Dean attempted to pick the lock. “And I doubt a supernatural creature would be residing in a bakery.” Dean looked back at Castiel as the lock clicked, pushing the door open and gesturing inside. “Cas, we’re not here to hunt,” he laughed. “I’d have brought more than my car key for that.” “Then what are we here for?” asked Castiel, as Dean crossed the room, entered the kitchen, and began opening cabinets. “Cas, why do you think we’re in a bakery? We’re gonna bake cookies and shit. Now help me find the sugar.” Cas stood in the middle of the kitchen, still staring unblinkingly at Dean. “What do you mean by ‘cookies and shit’, Dean?” Dean paused, hand on the refrigerator door’s handle before turning back around and staring at his feet. “Because, man we…we work all the damn time, killing monsters and exorcising demons and shit like that, and you’ve never even baked cookies, so…I dunno,” Dean shrugged. “I figured you’d want to, that’s all.” He looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder. “That would be nice, Dean,” Castiel said softly, staring piercingly into his eyes before letting his hand drop and turning away to search the nearest shelf. “What do we need?” “Oh! Uh…” Dean stammered, trying to clear all thoughts of deep blue eyes from his head. “Sugar, eggs, butter, chocolate chips…” It took a while to find all the ingredients in the darkened kitchen, because Dean was worried the neighbors would call the police if they saw lights on this late at night. They worked using the moonlight that was filtering in through the widows and skylight, passing into the bright beam as they moved around one another in the limited space. 

Castiel mixed the ingredients together as Dean added them to the bowl one by one, stirring until the cookie dough was completely blended together. Dean pulled a cookie sheet out from behind him and started dropping spoonfuls of dough onto it, evenly spaced and methodical. “Cas, can you turn on the oven? These’ll be ready to bake soon,” Dean called over to Castiel as he continued to fill the tray. Castiel turned, walking over to the oven before stopping to stare in confusion. His finger hovered unsurely over the ‘broil’ button before moving to the one that said ‘self-clean’. “Dean, I do not think this oven has a cookie function,” Castiel said over his shoulder, still concentrating on the machine in front of him. He heard Dean set down the cookie sheet gently before crossing the kitchen to stand next to Castiel, crouching slightly and looking him in the eye. “Cas, here. You preheat the oven to 350…see?” Dean smiled gently at Castiel, pressing the ‘bake’ button and standing back up. “We’ll put the cookies in as soon as the oven has warmed up. Okay?’ Castiel rose to his feet as well, staring at Dean before slowly breaking out into a smile. Dean’s grin widened almost subconsciously in response-Castiel was always so serious that when he actually smiled, however infrequent, it was contagious. “What?” Dean asked, staring back into Castiel’s blue eyes. Castiel hesitantly brought his hand to Dean’s face, never breaking eye contact, and brushed his thumb lightly over Dean’s left cheek. Dean turned pink, pulling away slightly, but he could still feel Cas’s fingertips on his face. “The…umm, cookies…in, uh, the oven,” Dean stammered, as he tried (and failed) not to look at Cas’s lips. “We should put the cookies in the oven.” He turned away abruptly, opening the oven door to slide the cookies sheet in, avoiding all eye contact with Castiel. He could feel Cas’s eyes still on him-boring into the back of his head as he straightened up, taking a deep breath and turning back to Castiel. 

Dean’s eyes were fixed on the floor, refusing to meet the angel’s unblinking gaze, but then there was a hand on his face and Dean was looking up and he had less than a second to process just how close those blue eyes were before a second hand was tilting his head to the side and Castiel’s lips were on his. Dean sighed involuntarily into Castiel’s mouth, closing his eyes for a second before stiffening, jolting back to reality as he realized that this was /Castiel/, his angel, his /friend/, and no matter how much Dean wanted to kiss him—Dean broke away, jerking his head back and staring at Castiel in shock. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t. “Cas…what…why…?” he stammered, trying to remember that this was a VERY BAD IDEA; and Castiel sighed defeatedly, looking up to meet Dean’s eyes. “I am sorry, Dean, I…shouldn’t have done that.” Cas just looked so sad and so embarrassed that as much as Dean was trying to remind himself that getting close to people always resulted in them getting hurt and he /couldn’t/ hurt Castiel, he couldn’t lose him, but Dean just wanted to—“Ah, fuck it,” Dean growled, bringing a hand up to Castiel’s trenchcoat and tugging Cas down by his collar until their lips met in a bruising kiss. Castiel responded immediately, raising a hand to the back of Dean’s neck and pulling him even closer as Dean’s fingers wound through his hair. Dean moaned as Castiel licked his way into his mouth, unclenching his hands from Castiel’s collar and letting them settle on his hips, gripping tightly and pulling them forward as Castiel began to slowly grind against Dean’s hard-on. As Castiel pressed him against the wall, continuing to roll his hips slowly against Dean’s, Dean stopped thinking completely and gave in to Cas; relaxing fully and melting against the wall, allowing Castiel access to his neck, and /fuck/, that felt good: the gentle scrape of teeth against collarbone, Castiel’s teeth biting gently—not hard enough to break skin, but not light enough to escape without a mark. Dean had never imagined that he wouldn’t be the one in control in a situation like this, and to be the one pushed against a wall, by /Castiel/no less, Castiel the trenchcoat-wearing angel…it was surreal, but it felt too damn good to stop. 

Dean groaned again, rolling his hips easily up to meet Castiel’s as he slid his tongue against the angel’s own. Dean broke away from the kiss to tangle his hands in Castiel’s hair, trailing his way slowly down his neck and sucking on a spot between Castiel’s collarbone and left shoulder. The moan this elicited from Castiel turned Dean on more than he thought possible and he raised his head to kiss Cas deeply, one arm coming up to circle his waist, but…Dean broke away, turning his head slightly to sniff the air. “Cas, do you smell something burning?” he asked, and he and Castiel looked at each other for a moment before the realization hit. “The cookies!” they both shouted, as they scrambled to get the tray out of the oven and on to the counter without burning the bakery to the ground. After a moment of panic, the cookies were cooling and the oven was off and the building was still standing, completely unscathed. Dean smiled at Castiel. “Crisis averted,” he laughed, leaning against the countertop and staring at the angel. Cas smiled back, reaching over to choose a cookie and taking a small bite. His eyebrows rose as he chewed, and he let out a sigh as his eyes fell shut. “Oh,” he said, small smile spreading across his face. “These are /really/ good. They're hardly burnt, and–” His eyes popped open for a second as Dean leaned forward to kiss him, both hands gripping Castiel’s face as he swirled his tongue around the inside of the angel’s mouth. Dean could taste chocolate and sugar and happiness and Castiel’s smile, and as Dean continued to kiss Cas against the edge of the counter, reflecting on how maybe cookies were better than pie and making memories far better and far more hopeful than the ones childhood had ever provided.


End file.
